


First Light

by doortotomorrow



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Body Worship, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lazy Mornings, Missing Scene, Pillow Talk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-08-21
Packaged: 2020-09-23 00:36:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20331136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doortotomorrow/pseuds/doortotomorrow
Summary: After gaining a place to stay among the people of Sanctum, Murphy and Emori find themselves a moment of calm to talk in their newly acquired living quarters, feeling elated over being in each other's arms again.





	First Light

**Author's Note:**

> This missing scene fic takes place between 6x04 and 6x05

Murphy was a lot of things to many people:   
a brother to Bellamy, Raven, Echo, Monty, and Harper  
a sort of, but not really son to Abby Griffin(it's a little complicated)  
an acquaintance of Clarke's(whether they were on good terms depended on how the wind was blowing that day)  
and the great love of Emori's life(something he took immense pride in being, by the way)  
however, being a morning person was something most certainly left off that list of descriptors. Ever since he was sentenced to spending half of his young life locked and isolated in a box made from frigid, implacable steel, mornings meant waking up in a saggy, threadbare cot wrapped in a thin blanket that barely did anything to chase the chill away. 

Mornings also meant being corralled into a lineup with all his fellow delinquents in getting his daily serving of hell begotten algae and a small ration of ancient, nondescript non-perishables which was about as appetizing as you can imagine it'd being. It filled the void somewhat, but it never truly reached down to quench his beastly, vehement hunger...he was always looking for one more bite, one more portion...and in all honesty, that mentality of satisfying his foremost needs had become his way of life. Murphy wasn't given the chance to learn how to be anything else other than starving in every aspect of his life. It transformed him, for if you had met him before the whole sordid affair which got him shackled in the first place, you'd have seen a sentimental, fragile young boy proudly wielding his heart on his sleeve filled to bursting with potential so great, it'd blind you if you got too close to its sheer radiance.

Although, as of late, Murphy found himself warming up considerably to the pale,halfway lucid hours when the twin suns of Sanctum peeked out over the horizon, flooding the sky above his head with colours he could scarcely explain. Mornings also meant waking up and sensing two arms draped loose around his waist, becoming acutely aware of the blessed woman he had the honour and privilege of sharing his bed with. His eyes, still heavy with slumber, gazed at the peaceful, sleeping form of his most cherished person in pure affection. Murphy couldn't believe his luck. Someone, somewhere must've really taken a shine to him, because Emori was the physical embodiment of a divine intervention. Reaching out, he pulled her badass hand up close to his lips, and laid down feather soft kisses on the fused fingers while his eyelashes skimmed the surface of her skin. His eyes travelled upwards and a welt grew in his throat at the heavenly vision laid before him, for Emori's messy dark locks were illuminated underneath the glare of two suns, enveloping her beautiful face with light. Emori stirred, and eventually joined the waking world, rubbing her eyes with her free hand. Pale, crystalline blue intermingled with everlasting amber as they gazed into each other's souls, making silent thank you's towards the nameless benefactor who brought them together. 

“G'mornin', John,” Emori rasped, voice thick with sleepiness.

There it was...the most magnificent sound in the world...his name unspooling from her lips. The corners of Murphy's eyes crinkled as a smile bloomed across his entire face, showcasing the telltale signs of his departure from being a vicious, reckless youth to becoming a man whose wrath and hotheadedness had been considerably controlled. Now, he prayed the fire moving like a river through his veins provided his family shelter from the bitter cold snapping at their heels. Before they took their century's long slumber, Murphy vowed to never let his flame run wild and burn Emori again. The only heat of his that touched her now was the steam escaping his lungs and flooding out his lips whenever he worshipped her body with his mouth...which, he felt was long overdue for. 

Murphy rolled over onto Emori, and with the greatest of care, pressed his weight down on her, dotting her forehead with a firm kiss and inhaling the intoxicating citrus aroma of her hair. Emori made a barely audible sigh of approval, rubbing her foot up and down Murphy's leg in response to him burying his head into her chest and kissing her exposed cleavage. Murphy's rough, scruffy beard brushing against Emori's skin caused the hairs at the back of her neck to stand to attention as he continued to kiss her breasts, taking immense joy in the sounds of satisfaction Emori made. Out of breath, Murphy rested his head on Emori's abdomen, and uttered out a lingering, yet pleased growl.

“What do you feel like doin' today...well...besides me, of course,” Murphy bantered, voice filled to the brim with mirth. Emori's soft laughter rumbled through her and sent warm vibrations towards Murphy, making him feel like a million dollars. 

“I was thinking about asking one of the locals if they've got boats we could use. The biggest thing I missed when we were on the Ring was our boat. What do you think?” Emori asked, busying her hands in fixing Murphy's bedhead.

“Don't feel like bein' around water right now, 'mori. Nearly drowning and getting poisoned by alien seaweed kinda takes the fun out of beach day,” Murphy replied, looking off to the side. An apologetic look immediately flashed over Emori's face, dimming the glowing gleam in her eyes as the reality of what happened in the past few days whacked her in the head.

So much for the boat cruise idea. 

Murphy, not wanting Emori to feel too guilty and desiring nothing more than to keep her in good spirits, took her by her badass hand once more and pressed his lips against the inside of her palm. Thankfully, the gesture provided a soothing balm for the sting.

“Okay, scratch the boat idea, what else could we-” Emori had an epiphany, coming up with a much better idea, “I know! When I was out on a walk with Echo, we passed by this huge food stand. Do you want to try cooking up some moon food?” Emori asked, finally getting a frustrating tangle out of Murphy's hair and smiling in triumph over her success. Murphy's sour face brightened at the idea of cooking dinner with complex flavour compounds and actual ingredients he could chop, mash, and arrange.

He could definitely work with this plan.

“It would be fun to find a kitchen somewhere and play around with some new flavours. I'm more than ready to ditch the algae only diet,” Murphy acknowledged, hearing his own voice fading out like an old radio broadcast the longer Emori spent massaging his head, pacifying any demons licking their chops in his direction. Emori sat up, elevating his body skyward along with her, and his teeth raked lines across his lip as he let out an involuntary whimper while Emori began suckling on his chest. Good lord, she left him incapacitated in all the right ways, providing him with a spike of pleasure up his spine. Emori slithered her hand up from his chest towards his neck and as gently as possible, grasped onto him, applying pressure to the side of his throat and giving him a fervent, hungry kiss. Spreading his lips open, she painted her feelings for him on the roof of his mouth with her tongue. 

“We'll find something on this moon to get you excited,” Emori mumbled, directly feeding Murphy her words. The side of Murphy's lip twitched into a smirk, keeping Emori balanced with one hand resting at her lower back.

“If anything's getting me excited right now, it's you,” Murphy crooned, delighting in every intimate gesture Emori performed for him, pressing his forehead against hers when Emori broke the kiss, producing a sound caught between panting and laughing in her throat.

“Charmer,” Emori said.

“Damn right I am,” Murphy exhaled, eyebrows and pride both raised high on his face, “what about you, Emori,” he kissed the side of her face, pressing his nose deep into her cheek, “found anything that's got you excited?” Murphy asked, his curiosity piqued. Emori closed her eyes, tapping out a syncopated beat on his chest with one of her fused digits, brow wrinkled in deep thought.

“It may not be as thrilling as piloting rockets, but I've found some fun in building this radiation shield for when our own compound is fully constructed with Raven,” Emori answered, fingers making little zigzag patterns in Murphy's chest hair, “I'm resisting every urge in me that's telling me to take one of their motorbikes out on a joyride even though I don't know how to ride one,” Emori explained, filling their bedroom in boisterous laughter, “not sure what I'd wreck first, myself or the bike.”

A different sort of pride blossomed inside of Murphy. Knowing Emori was yet again utilizing the skills she picked up and excelled in up in space got his heart beating stronger inside his ribs. He felt like world's biggest asshole in punishing her for succeeding in a way he couldn't when he looked back on all those wasted months on board the Ring where they became each other's enemy. He couldn't believe it was him of all people who tried to break her heart and prevent her rebirth into what she had become now. From here on in, and following Monty and Harper's example of doing better, Murphy promised to make damned sure Emori knew how incredible she was in everything she did. If she faltered, he'd be there to pull her away from staring into the lonely abyss like he had done so many times before. 

“You're quick on the draw in picking up things, Emori. It's easy to picture you burning rubber out there on the trails,” Murphy daydreamed, tilting his head off to the side and donning a bright smile on his face. Emori practically embedded her head into Murphy's chest while a faint shiver rippled through her body as a sharp bite of grief sunk deep into her beating heart. “Hey, hey, hey,” he mumbled beneath his breath, giving her back a vigorous rubbing and warming her skin, “you're trembling...what's wrong, Em...it's okay, you can tell me,” Murphy continued to build up the heat between his hand and her back, hoping his attempt to soothe her was doing the trick. 

Emori clamped down hard on her quivering lip, holding back an unexpected wave of tears and focused her mournful gaze in Murphy's direction.

“I want to do right by them, John...Monty and Harper,” Emori gulped, heart burdened with unexpressed grief. 

Emori, as emotionally taxing as it was, began the process of mourning.

“We were all safe, we were all together, we made it off of Earth before it was blown into splinters-” Emori let out a small sob, trying her fucking hardest to keep the tears from interrupting her from speaking, “I'm still punch drunk over how fucking long we were in that frozen coma for...and all those years went by, and Monty and Harper had no one there for them at the end...they handed their lives and everything they wanted for themselves selflessly over to us, and it's just-” Emori's voice flew away on her, leaving her partially mute.

“Just...just what, Emori?” Murphy asked in barely a whisper, resting his warmed hands on her shoulders. 

Emori took a much needed deep breath and for a brief moment, her eyes flickered shut, over encumbered with the considerable weight of her next statement.

“I'm not sure if I'm gonna live up to their hopes for me. What if I come up short?”

Emori's reaction time must of gotten slower thanks to being frozen for so long...for before she knew it, she found herself enveloped in Murphy's arms. Murphy nuzzled her neck with his nose, peppering her skin in a furious barrage of kisses, each more passionate than the last. Murphy raised his head, and leaned his forehead hard into hers to the point where it nearly hurt, shaking his head in abject defiance.

“You not measuring up to their hopes isn't going to happen...not a chance in fucking hell. Trust me, I got a teaser trailer of where I'm going when I bite it and you failing isn't part of that shit show,” Murphy breathed out, “you're gonna find your footing so fast here, everyone's gonna run out of breath tryin' to chase after you,” Murphy soothed, playfully nipping the tip of Emori's nose, hoping to return the gleaming smile to her adorable features. Emori grinned in the face of the dread roiling up in her belly, and whispered out a tiny 'thanks', while Murphy in a delicate fashion, brushed the unshed tears away from her eyelashes using his thumbs.

“John Murphy,” Emori hummed, yanking him down to the bed in renewed happiness, “my hero.”

“Careful with that, Emori,” Murphy sang close to her ear, “I've got a reputation for being an irredeemable and selfish bastard to protect.”

Emori's fresh laughter lifted from her throat and carried itself off in the wind like tufts of dandelion fluff, making a home in every nook and cranny of their bedroom, flowering to maturity and filling the room with vivid sunshine yellow. Murphy's hand snaked its way down to her right leg, raising it up to rest by his waist and handled it with the most reverent of care. Emori's badass hand draped over Murphy's lower back, etching out impassioned declarations of love in Trigedasleng, hoping Murphy remembered what they meant...and it looked like he had, for his grip on her thigh had intensified in pressure. Emori soon found her lips stolen by Murphy's and Emori more than allowed him to do whatever the fuck he wanted with them. 

“Murphy...Murphy...c'mon, rise and shine, Murphy, I've got a job to do and need some assistance. Emori, if you're in there with him, wake him up for me!” Bellamy's voice crackled out of the walkie-talkie sitting on the night stand next to their bed. Murphy let out a disheartened snarl, and used all of his willpower to forcibly tear himself away from Emori, knowing full well Bellamy would never leave them alone. 

“A hero's work is never done,” Murphy huffed, picking up his black tee and his tattered, bullet riddled jacket off of the floor and dressed himself in great reluctance.

“Hero, huh...what about your 'irredeemable, selfish bastard' rep?” Emori asked, giving him her slyest grin.

“Only for you, Emori...only for you,” Murphy replied, caressing her face with his hand and leaning downward to press a quick kiss on her lips.

“I better get going myself,” Emori chimed in, getting off their bed with a hop, “no doubt Raven's already at the machine shop, taking a hammer to everything she sees...also, I don't like her being alone around Ryker for too long...I don't trust him all that much yet.”

“In that case, I'll see you later on tonight. Don't cause too much ruckus without me,” Murphy laughed, and just before he left their room, he whirled himself around and said, “and Emori?”

“Yeah?”

Murphy leaned against the doorway and gazed at Emori with every iota of adoration he had for her, allowing himself the chance to linger in the peaceful reverie that resided in the space they claimed.

“After I help out Bellamy with whatever the fuck he's getting himself into, I'll stop by the food stand and get us dinner. It'll be ready for you when you get back from work,” Murphy answered, giving the door frame a few cheery taps before taking his exit, coveting the temporary lightness inside his head for however long he was allowed to hold onto it for today.

Waking up, making love to Emori, helping Bellamy protect their family, coming home after a long day's work to cook a filling dinner, and having a safe place to settle his weary bones?

Yeah, he could definitely see himself doing this forever.


End file.
